


Dominate - to excercise power or control

by DjJenchei



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: BDSM, Dominance, Established Relationship, M/M, Rope Bondage, Submission, after season 4
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-11
Updated: 2021-02-11
Packaged: 2021-03-17 19:54:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,244
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29356035
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DjJenchei/pseuds/DjJenchei
Summary: Sherlock and John are helping Lestrade on a case that requires Sherlock to flirt with a man. John is jealous and Greg is amused. After the case is solved John needs Sherlock and Sherlock wants to show him how much he loves his soldier.
Relationships: Sherlock Holmes/John Watson
Comments: 2
Kudos: 30





	Dominate - to excercise power or control

”Look at him go! I never figured Sherlock to be such an utter flirt.” The unce unce unce of the music was making John’s head pound.

“He is when he wants to be.” John couldn’t help the way his teeth were locked together. He couldn’t help the way his brain was shouting _He’s mine, mine, mine, MINE!! How dare he touch what is mine!_ Rationally he knew he had nothing to worry about but he couldn’t help the monster within rearing up its’ ugly green head and thrashing inside his guts at the way Sherlock was talking and acting towards someone else.

They were investigating a lead in a gay nightclub and Sherlock was currently leaning way too close to their suspect and casually resting his hand on the guy’s hip.

“Well that’s a tenner I ain’t getting back.” Greg leaned back on the booth, interlacing his fingers over his stomach. “You’re jealous!” John could feel the smirk directed at him.

“Am not!” John had to force himself to stop burning holes to the guy’s head and turn towards Greg. The annoying Inspector Lestrade was staring at him amusedly. The monster was making mince pie from his insides. Sherlock was his and no one was allowed to touch him the way the perp was touching him.

“Keep telling yourself that mate.” Greg chuckled to himself before turning back to see the scene unfolding. He was treating it like it was some kind of a spectacle. All he needed was popcorn and a soda and he was set.

John could feel the headache coming in with each passing second they were in the club, the thud of the bass wasn’t helping the matter at all. The suspect, Alec Forsythe, was suspected of beating four guys into coma. The latest crime was fortunately interrupted and the victim had only few scrapes and bruises and retrograde amnesia. The last thing Colin remembered was talking with the guy Sherlock was talking to at this bar.

“I don’t really see it.”

“Hmm?” It was taking everything in John not to fly across the room and punch the living lights out of Alec for touching Sherlock the way he was. Sherlock looked amused with the small smile on his lips, the one where only the left side of his mouth curled up. Alec wasn’t even trying to hide the fact he was aroused, pushing his crotch towards Sherlock’s and trailing his hand across Sherlock’s arm to his arse.

“I mean this bloke doesn’t look like he has the strength to beat up a guy to coma.”

“You’d be surprised what a bloke is able to do when the adrenaline kicks in.” If looks could kill, Alec would’ve died twenty minutes ago. Horribly.

“Seriously mate, you have nothing to worry about. Sherlock’s crazy mad about you.” With Greg’s hand on his shoulder John could feel a bit of the tension dispersing from his muscles.

“I know.” Sherlock was on the move, heading towards the gents and Alec was staring after him like he was something delicious to eat; which of course Sherlock was, but not for Alec to taste. Once Sherlock disappeared from sight, Alec chucked a shot down and went in after Sherlock.

“Hold on John.” He hadn’t even noticed getting up from the chair to go after them before Greg put a hand on his arm. “He’s not going to do anything in a crowded bar. It’s not his style.”

“If they’re not back in two minutes I’m going in.”

“Fine, but no causing a jealous boyfriend scene, please.” John tried to look shocked at Greg for even mentioning it but definitely failing wonderfully.

“Right.” Two minutes were such a long time. Around 38 seconds of waiting John was sure his watch was running slow on purpose. He made a mental note to have its batteries changed first thing tomorrow.

“Off you go then.” In an effort to appear nonchalant John straightened his shirt, pulled an invisible lint off his shoulder and cleared his throat before heading towards the loo. John weaved himself around couples grinding against each other in a mock dance and couples making out on his way to Sherlock.

“Sorry.” John was nearly knocked down with the door opening. The bloke was looking pleased and rubbing his lips absentmindedly on his way out. It took way too long for John to realize it was Alec Forsythe leaving the loo.

Inside Sherlock was rearranging his curls in front of the mirror. John strode across the room, crowding in his space. “He kissed you.”

“Yes.” Blood was pumping in John’s ears as he pushed himself against Sherlock, pinning him to the wall. John pushed his hand to Sherlock’s hair, gripping it tightly and noticing pleasantly how Sherlock’s pupils went wide. Sherlock let out a breath of surprise and John jumped at the chance to push his tongue inside his mouth. John could feel Sherlock relaxing against him and his knees giving out, surrendering to John’s aggressiveness and the monster within purred _mine, mine, mine_.

Sherlock’s hands held on to John by his hips as John turned Sherlock’s head to the side, kissing his way to his ear before giving it a bite. “Mine.” He honest to God growled to Sherlock’s ear.

“Yours.” Sherlock moaned as he rubbed his bulging crotch against John.

With a last kiss to Sherlock’s zygomatic bone John stepped back, admiring the way Sherlock looked wrecked with his blown pupils, reddening cheeks and hair sticking out everywhere. With a smirk John left Sherlock trying to regain his composure. John loved that he could do that to Sherlock.

John joined Greg at the table and he could feel Greg trying to contain his amusement. “Well someone looks like a cat that got the cream.” John decided not to answer Greg but to simply sit down and sip his beer with a pleased smile on his face.

Sherlock joined Alec at the bar and after five minutes of flirting they left off together towards the exit. John could feel the nerves setting in, blood starting to pump faster and sweat forming. Ignoring the way his body was reacting to the fact that Sherlock was in the company of someone who might have almost killed four men, John got up from the booth and followed them out. Greg grabbed the back of his shirt as they navigated through the people dirty dancing. 

The stairs leading outside were long, longer than John remembered. John tried not to let his brain jump to worst case scenarios as he climbed the stairs. Never in his life had he felt such a worry as he did when it came to Sherlock in danger.

Finally they met the cool air outside but Sherlock or Alec was nowhere to be found. “John, do you see them?”

Cold dread set in as John searched the streets for Sherlock. “Bloody hell, Sherlock.”

“He’ll be fine, John.” Greg tried to be convincing, but John heard the strain in his voice. John knew Sherlock could look after himself but that did not stop his heart beating wildly in his chest with fear.

It seemed to take forever to find Sherlock. They struck an amazing bit of luck heading the way they did, and John tried not to think how his heart would always find Sherlock’s, even from a distance. Sherlock was shielding his body and face while a man – not Alec – pounded his fists in him.

John’s eyes saw red and he focused solely on the man hitting Sherlock as he charged at him, hitting the man with his whole body, sending them both to the ground. John started hitting him to the body, managing to hit him to the kidney on the left side but forgot to shield his face. The strike on the side of his face made his ear pop.

“John!” Sherlock breathed out at the contact and John was momentarily distracted by seeking out Sherlock with his eyes and the way Sherlock’s face was bloodied. The man managed to buck John off because of the distraction. And then he saw black. No, he didn’t black out, he felt fury and he gave in to the monster thirsting for blood. This man had made his Sherlock bleed, had hurt him. John squared his shoulders and jumped up. The man was trying to escape, even with Greg’s gun on him, and John wasn’t going to let that happen. He raced after the man, grabbing his shoulders while dropping to his back and pushing with his legs, making the man fly over his head back towards Greg. The man looked surprised to be thrown back but jumped back up fast. His stance told John he was trained in fighting and John couldn’t help but to grin; the monster would get its’ blood after all.

John threw a right hook at the man’s jaw but he was blocked and received a leg to his left side. John had seen the leg coming and braced himself for impact while getting ready to grab the leg to his side, push out the other leg and punch the man’s groin. He went down with a groan only to jump back up and grab John’s shirt and drive his knee to John’s stomach.

John was winded but he forced himself up and charged at the man, punching his face repeatedly with the force of his whole body. The man shielded his face and pushed on, forcing John back with his body. John stumbled and the man got around him, taking his head in a head lock, choking him. John hit his elbow to the man’s side to make him let go of his head. It took a few hits but he managed to get loose enough to grab hold of the hand choking him, holding it and pivoting the man over his shoulder. The man went down and without releasing the hand, John forced the man onto his stomach. John pushed his knee to the man’s lower back, twisting the hand at his back, making it hard to turn around.

Greg appeared at his side, handcuffing the free hand before taking the other one from John. Once he was handcuffed, John jumped off and went to Sherlock.

“Sherlock, are you okay?” John’s hands studied everything, his face, his shoulders, stomach, knees, legs. John’s frantic searching was interrupted by Sherlock’s hands, taking them in and inspecting John’s knuckles. They were bleeding.

“I’m fine, John.” And he looked fine. He wasn’t grimacing in pain, his nose and brow line had stopped bleeding.

The taxi took them home and John could feel the adrenaline releasing its hold on him and making him shiver. Sherlock was holding his hand and rubbing the back of his hand in slow circles.

Sherlock opened the door, leading John in and ushering him up the stairs. “Tea?” He asked over his shoulder while heading to the kitchen.

John could feel the fight leaving him and he nearly wobbled on his feet. The fear he had felt when Sherlock had jumped off Bart hospital was back when he’d seen Sherlock on the ground bleeding. He remembered the feeling of not having Sherlock in his life and the feeling nearly crippled him.

John could hear the water boiling and he was struck with a fear that he was dreaming. Dreaming that Sherlock was alive and fine and that he was his. With the remaining energy he could muster up, John walked to the kitchen and relief poured through him as he saw Sherlock dropping tea bags to two mugs. John stumbled across the room and plastered himself to Sherlock’s back, hugging him close and hard, breathing in his scent and basking in his warmth.

“John?” Sherlock sounded worried as he lifted his hands free of John’s grip and turned around. John’s grip only tightened and he pushed his face into Sherlock’s neck. John breathed out and started shaking uncontrollably. “It’s fine, I’m fine.” Sherlock’s words rumbled in his chest, providing much needed comfort for John. He breathed out strongly through his mouth, trying to find the courage to say what needed to be said. Still, after all these years, he still found these moments hard. Not always, but sometimes. Sherlock had brought out the ability to speak out his feelings from John.

“I was scared, so scared. The last time I was that scared was when you fell.” John draws in a shaky breath before pushing his nose between Sherlock’s shoulder blades, holding his breath until he saw stars. “I can’t live without you, Sherlock. It would kill me.” He released his tight grip on Sherlock, allowing him to turn around.

“I have no intentions of dying anytime soon, John.”

“Most people don’t but even you can’t outrun death.”

“Why would I try, when I have my soldier by my side?”

“Sherlock.” The name came out almost as a growl. John pulled out a chair and pushed Sherlock back to it. Sherlock’s eyes followed John to the medicine cabinet, amusement crinkling at the corners of his eyes. “I can’t protect you all the time, you need to be careful.” John felt the fear turning to anger as he cleaned the blood off Sherlock’s face.

“Would it help if I promised you that I won’t die before you?” Sherlock was laughing at him without actually laughing. John would laugh too if he wasn’t feeling the remnants of fear coursing through him.

“No.” John muttered through his teeth before coming to another answer. “Yes.”

Sherlock took a hold of John’s hand cleaning his face and nuzzled against his palm affectionately. “Then I promise.”

“God, I love you so much it’s ridiculous.” John breathed out, stepping closer to the seated man in front of him. “You mean the world to me, Sherlock.” John tilted Sherlock’s face towards him, kissing him gently. “We need you, Rosie and I. But mostly me, Rosie’s a strong girl.” Sherlock pulled John to his lap, deepening the kiss.

“You are my world, John, my family.” John groans against Sherlock’s lips, hot blood coursing through his veins. Sherlock’s hands found their way to John’s arse, groping and gripping them tight and pulling John even closer to him.

“Sherlock.” John sounded so needy it almost shamed him, but this was Sherlock, his life, his love.

“You too are my life and my love.” Sherlock muttered against his neck. Either Sherlock was a mind reader or John had spoken out loud.  
Sherlock pulled John’s sweater off, running his fingers all over John’s torso. His lips were everywhere, nibbling, kissing and sucking. John was going to be black and blue. Sherlock knew how to make John a blubbering mess, all he could do was hold on and enjoy the attention. His hips were undulating without a conscious thought against Sherlock.

John couldn’t think straight; all his senses were filled with Sherlock. His breathing was fast, as was Sherlock’s. His heart was hammering in his ears and his dick was throbbing with need. As if Sherlock had once again read his mind, his trousers were opened and his dick was pulled free. Sherlock teased him with not enough pressure and John whined needily. Sherlock’s tongue sneaked its way inside John’s, licking and touching every inch of his mouth.

“John.” Sherlock breathed out and John finally got his wits about him and started pulling Sherlock’s shirt off him. He needed skin on skin contact. Sherlock’s skin was light and smooth and warm under his palms. John tugged the sparce hairs on Sherlock’s chest, eliciting a sharp inhale and a moan from him.

“Bedroom.” John moaned against Sherlock’s lips. Sherlock gently pushed John to his feet and led him to their bedroom. John could feel nervousness creeping inside. He wanted Sherlock, had wanted for a very long time. He knew Sherlock wouldn’t deny him this but he still felt shame deep within. He had come a long way from the first time he had asked Sherlock to fuck him but he couldn’t shake the shame.

Sherlock must have felt the change in him because he looked over his shoulder quizzically. He was too good at deducing and pleasure coursed through John as he saw the way his pupils dilate at what he saw John wanted. There were times he was sure Sherlock was a mind reader really, there was no way he could look at a way a person buttoned their blazer and deduce they had committed murder four years ago. True story.

Sherlock was at times an arse, an utter cock, and this was one of those times. Sherlock knew what he wanted, and he was going to make John say it. Just to stall and gather his nerve, John started to undress Sherlock, removing one item at a time and avoiding eye contact. John kneeled down to remove Sherlock’s shoes and socks and got distracted by the tent in his trousers. John leaned in, nuzzling the hardness between Sherlock’s legs.

“I need you, Sherlock. I want you to take me.” This was the best he could do today, making himself clear for Sherlock without being too graphic. He could feel his heart pumping in the veins on his neck. John couldn’t understand why he still felt shame and fear with bottoming, he loved it, he loved Sherlock and Sherlock enjoyed the act. He guessed he couldn’t fight the years of imprinted taboo surrounding homosexuality. He had grown up hearing gay people to be less of a man and feminine and weaker than those that were heterosexuals. In his mind he knew it to be false, he wasn’t less of a man, he didn’t think Sherlock was less of a man because of their relationship and what they did behind closed doors.

“John, let me show you how much I love you.” Sherlock was looking down at him with such awe, devotion and love that it took John’s breath away. John usually loved being dominating in bed because he loved the rush he got from that and the way Sherlock responded to him. But at times he needed control taken away and this was one of those times. He had expanded a lot of adrenaline during the fight and he couldn’t muster the energy to be domineering again, he wanted to succumb. He wanted to just feel and he wanted Sherlock to get him out of his head for a while.

John let Sherlock lead him to their bed, he could already feel the calmness spreading through him. He watched as Sherlock went to the dresser and pulled out a hemp rope. John moaned and his hand flew straight to his dick at the sight, rubbing it through his trousers.

John’s head went blank as Sherlock started weaving the rope around him, the pressure was making him lightheaded in the most perfect way. Sherlock looked so serene as he concentrated on keeping the rope tight to restraint but not too tight to cut circulation. “I love you so much.” John breathed out. Sherlock kissed him gently before continuing with the rope. The harness around his torso felt amazing, he could feel the restraint with each breath. Sherlock was so gentle with him, moving his body the way he wanted to, and John let him. He trusted Sherlock with his life. His arms were tied together, the rope going around and around his arms, keeping them firmly in place. Sherlock connected his hands on the harness rope around his torso.

“Is that good?” Sherlock asked as he pushed John gently to his back on the bed. “Nothing is too tight?”

“So good.” John flexed his fingers anyway, making sure everything was actually good because he knew Sherlock would make him do it if he didn’t. Damn he loved this man.

“Lift your hips, love.” Sherlock pulled the rest of his clothes off. Sherlock tied a knot around his left ankle and started twisting the rope around John’s thigh, forcing his legs to stay bent. If it were any other time and without the ropes, John would feel too exposed to simply enjoy the moment.

Sherlock’s long fingers worked deftly on him, tying John’s right leg in the same position before lifting both legs over his stomach and tying them in that position.

“Still good?”

“Mmmm, perfect.” John couldn’t move but it was alright. He trusted Sherlock to make him feel good and take care of him. Sherlock ran his fingers over the ropes and knots, making sure they were placed perfectly. His hands were everywhere. John’s cock was starting to fill up again from the attention Sherlock was giving him.

Sherlock’s lips and tongue were everywhere and John felt he was being worshipped. John closed his eyes and let himself go, allowing himself to just enjoy the heat building. Sherlock’s mouth was on his nipple, teasing it between his teeth. John moaned at the sensation running through him. His breathing was faster and the ropes around him created a sweet burn against his skin. John knew he was going to have rope burns after this session and the thought thrilled him. He was going to wear them with pride, the physical proof on his skin that Sherlock loved him, and that he loved Sherlock and trusted him enough to let him take control. Of course he had trusted Sherlock almost the second he met him.

Sherlock was moving downwards on his body, licking and kissing his stomach, inner thighs. John was panting, the lust filling him up to the brink of explosion. He was leaking precum and Sherlock licked it off with a hum of appreciation and John nearly came apart at the sound.

“Sherlock.” John was so close to orgasm it was nearly painful. Sherlock ran his tongue from base to tip and his thighs trembled. His breath was coming in gasps. He was so hard. John was biting his lower lip so hard he was tasting blood. He wanted to thrust, to do anything to find release.

Sherlock leaned back from John’s cock and got up from the bed. John’s eyes flew open at the loss of Sherlock on him. “Sherlock!” His cock was throbbing with need he wasn’t getting. Sherlock looked so composed John wanted to curse but all he got out was unintelligible gibberish.

“Do you know how beautiful you are, John?” Sherlock asked as he stepped out of his remaining clothes. John cold feel the blush forming in his cheeks and his chest at the words. He wanted to hide from the adoring stare he was getting from Sherlock but there was nothing he could do to make that happen.

Sherlock leaned on his side next to John and cupped his cheek affectionally. “I’ve never met anyone like you before.” His thumb was running over John’s lips and John tried to suck the thumb in. He wanted Sherlock in him anyway he could get. “It is as if you were made just for me.” He pushed the thumb in, letting John suck and run his tongue over it. John hummed in appreciation. Too soon Sherlock removed his thumb from John’s mouth. The hand trailed across his chest and stomach, finally grasping John’s cock in a loose fist. John was teetering on the edge, cock leaking precum and heart hammering in his ears.

Before John could orgasm, Sherlock removed his hand and kissed John gently on his eyelids before muttering sweet nothings in his ear. Pleasure, pain and lust was all John knew. Sherlock was so good at keeping him close to the edge and John lost all coherent thought.

He didn’t know how long Sherlock edged him. His hands and mouth were everywhere and John was in heaven. John didn’t know how it was possible but he was lost and grounded at the same time. It was like he was out of his body but in it all at the same time. He could feel tears leaking from his eyes.

“Do you need me to stop, John.” Sherlock’s thumbs caressed his face, wiping the tears away.

“No, please don’t.” John wasn’t sure how he got the words out. He was trembling as Sherlock finally pushed himself in and started fucking him. His head was thrown back in pleasure as he finally came in sweet release, spilling all over the ropes and his chest. The orgasm came in waves, washing over him. John couldn’t remember a time he came as hard as he did now. Sherlock’s cock inside him was almost too much to bear. He didn’t know how it was possible but he came again as he saw Sherlock coming apart with his own orgasm. Sherlock leaned in, pressing his forehead against John’s, breathing coming rapidly.

John was wiped and almost delirious. He wanted to say he loved Sherlock, worshipped and adored him but he was unable to open his mouth.

Sherlock started the process of removing the ropes, moving him this way and that. John couldn’t help Sherlock even if he wanted to. Sherlocks fingers removed all the ropes deftly, rubbing his skin during the process. John closed his eyes and enjoyed the feeling of being taken care of.

He felt Sherlock rubbing a wet cloth over his stomach and chest, removing the cum from his skin and John hummed. John could feel sleep seeping in as Sherlock wrapped himself around John and pulled the covers over him. “Sleep, my love.” He muttered against John’s hair and John did just that.

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you liked it <3 I had so much fun writing this and I'm super happy to get out of my funk with creating. 
> 
> If anyone is interested, the perp was assaulting people who got too close to Alec, he had been stalking Alec a long time. Sherlock of course knew Alec wasn't their guy but he was an utter cock (John's words, not mine) and kept on the act because the way John kept looking at them. It made him feel powerful and wanted. They had a short "domestic" about Sherlock being an arse before John punished Sherlock for his act. Sherlock was happy to be punished and planned to do it again at some point. He loved his soldier.


End file.
